Why Yamato Will Never Drink Again
by BlondeandConfused
Summary: A mini fic based off of a story mentioned in "It's All About Balance", but you don't need to read that dramatic piece to enjoy this. Yamato and Taichi are finally living on their own, here's a story of a particularly interesting drunken shenanigan.


"To being adults," Taichi howled as he threw his beer bottle high into the air. The liquid sloshed, threatening to spill with every movement.

Yamato slowly began counting in his head. One...two...three...four. That was the fourth time Taichi cheered on his newfound adulthood in their nearly empty apartment. The blonde chuckled. Weren't they supposed to be unpacking?

Thinking back, he remembered moving boxes into their simple two-bedroom apartment. He remembered calling dibs on the first bedroom, the one without the window; he preferred sleeping in complete darkness. He also remembered attempting to put together his bed, but why did he stop?

Oh that's right. Taichi was fussing around with cables for the television, because apparently watching football was a bigger priority than having a bed to sleep on, before they were interrupted by a knock at the door. On the other side was one of the upperclassmen from the football team with beer, and lots of it. He couldn't stay for some reason and Taichi swore he didn't convince the guy to bring them alcohol, but using his classic goggle-headed charm, Yamato was roped into the competition of who-could-out-drink-the-other.

They were both losing.

Taichi, clearly lost in his own little world, danced around the living room to music that was only playing in his head. Yamato, as the only audience member to Taichi's performance, cheered and applauded the brunette's clear sense of intoxication from his spot on the couch. While he hid it well, Yamato wasn't in much better shape. He struggled to focus. His eyes played tricks on him, turning Taichi into Taichis.

Stopping abruptly, nearly toppling over on a stack of boxes, Taichi turned to Yamato. His eyes widened in panic.

Unable to control his volume, his voice came out in a yell. "Where are the digimon?"

Yamato scrunched his eyes in confusion. "In the digital world remember? We thought it would be easier for them to hang out while we unpacked."

"Oh. Right."

Taichi continued skipping around the piles of boxes, acting as if his little outburst didn't happen. Yamato toppled over in laughter.

"Dude, you're so wasted," the blonde breathed out.

Taichi's movements stopped and his shoulders tensed.

"Takes one to know one," he scoffed. "What happened to your face? You look sunburnt. French boy can't handle his beer?"

Yamato really wanted to be mad, but everything was just too damn funny. His chuckles turned rowdy as he bent forward, grabbing his sides and toppling off the cushion. With a smack, he fell face first onto the hardwood floor.

Taichi's grin grew at the still form on the ground. Yes, they were _technically _mature, going to school and living on their own, but they still had a grasp on their youth. They needed to let go every once in awhile, live life as his mentor once told him. Taichi's mind wandered to the past year. Everything changed so quickly, he really needed time to slow down. It seemed like they all did. A grunt from the ground pushed Taichi out of his thoughts.

"You alive down there?"

The body didn't budge, but a muffled hum reverberated from underneath it.

With a chuckle, Taichi bent down, reaching firmly for an elbow before tugging the blonde up.

"Taichi, stop. Leave me on the floor," the blonde grumbled.

Taichi paused, still holding the limp body up by his elbow. "Why?"

"Too…. comfy.." Yamato slurred.

Taichi felt his grip loosen as the blonde wiggled out of his hand, tumbling back onto the floor. Feeling the alcohol from his last toast settle in, he slid down on the hardwood beside his companion, unable to control the chuckling coming out of his mouth. Minutes passed before Taichi finally caught his breath.

"Yamato, I just had the best idea," he exclaimed.

Turning his head to face the brunette, Yamato furrowed his brows. "What's that?"

A wide grin spread across Taichi's face. "Remember what we talked about at graduation? Tonight's the night to do it Yamato, let's go!"

Yamato hesitated. "I don't know if Sora would appreciate that-"

"Oh come on lover boy, the two leaders need to be the first ones. Sora will support it," Taichi interjected.

Yamato stared at the ground for a moment, taking in Taichi's words.

The brunette egged him on. "So, is that a yes?"

"..."

"Yes, awesome, I know the perfect place! It's an easy walk."

Taichi jolted up and began rummaging through the boxes before pulling out his goggles. Yamato raised his eyebrow in confusion.

"If we're going to do this, we gotta do this right." he said simply. Taichi reached his hand down toward the blonde, who graciously accepted it as he began to stand up.

"I'm probably going to regret this," Yamato sighed.

"Yep," Taichi replied cheerfully.

"Alright," he grumbled. "Let's go."

He woke up with a jolt to the beeping of his alarm. His head throbbed and his mouth tasted, wrong, like stale bread. How much did he drink? Oh gosh did he forget to brush his teeth last night?

"Get it together Yamato," he whispered to himself. Step one was to find his phone and turn off that obnoxious beeping. Step two was to brush, no, scrub his teeth. Step three: wring Taichi's neck for convincing him to drink.

He looked around his floor, trying to locate the device. Well, at least he ended the night in his bed. Given Taichi's bed was nowhere near put together before the beer arrived, he could only wonder where the brunette passed out.

Leaning over his mattress, he found the device on the floor, promptly tucked in his jeans pocket. Clicking the home button, he noticed a chain of messages from Sora.

_Yama? Is everything alright?_

_Taichi just left the weirdest voicemail. Something about not being mad at you…?_

…_..What did you do?_

"Crap," he groaned. He hated making Sora worry. Quickly fiddling with the keyboard, he typed out a reply, assuring her that nothing too terrible happened and Taichi shouldn't be trusted around alcohol.

_I gathered that from the voicemail. Still up for some help unpacking? I can bring lunch, maybe some aspirin…_

His stomach growled in response to the mention of lunch. Sure enough, Sora knew exactly what he needed. They quickly decided on her coming over as soon as possible with some lunch followed by (maybe) some unpacking.

Yamato slowly rolled onto his back and shifted off the bed, stretching his arms and legs as he began to stand up. He noticed some tenderness around his ribs. Did he and Taichi get into an alcohol-induced fight? And where the hell was that buffoon? Yamato began his walk down the hall. It felt like hours before he reached the counter dividing the kitchen from the living room. With no sign of the brunette, Yamato slouched toward the second hallway. He grabbed the door handle of Taichi's room and pushed until there was just enough space to peak in. The mattress was still leaning against the wall and the floor was littered with boxes, but no sign of Taichi.

Yamato sighed. Slowly closing the door, he headed for the bathroom. He desperately needed to brush the gunk off his teeth. Reaching for the door handle, he paused. There was a faint shuffling coming from the other side of the bathroom door.

Knocking on the door, Yamato asked quietly, "Taichi? Is that you?"

He heard a muffled noise answer back. Grabbing the door handle, he pushed it open and flicked the light on. He found Taichi, lying in the tub with feet dangling over the edge. He still had his shoes on and his jacket was draped over his face.

"No.. light..," he whined.

Yamato grumbled at the sight of his roommate.

"Come on Taichi, get up. Sora's going to be here soon," he grunted.

"Not happening," the brunette argued.

With a scowl, Yamato grabbed a leg and began to tug. Taichi wiggled around and lightly kicked at the blonde. The foot made contact with Yamato's side, who promptly dropped to the ground.

"Fuck," he hissed.

Taichi popped his head up.

"Dude, are you ok? I didn't hit you that hard," he mumbled.

"Yea, I'm good," Yamato muttered. "Damn that hurt. Why did that hurt so badly?"

"I don't know man, did you get weak all of the sudden?" Taichi began to chuckle, but stopped suddenly. His eyes grew wide as he looked over at the hunched over blonde. Frantically he began patting down his own body.

"Taichi, what's going on?"

"We didn't do it, did we?," Taichi's voice came out in a panic.

Yamato tilted his head. "Do what?"

Taichi dove out of the bathtub and quickly wrestled the blonde to the ground.

"Taichi, what the fu-,"

Quickly tugging on Yamato's shirt, he lifted and looked at the tender side. His mouth hung open, gasping at what he saw. Along the reddened skin, a thin blue line decorated his ribcage, a circle with two points: the crest of friendship.

Yamato followed Taichi's line of sight to his ribcage. An inhumane squeal left his mouth as he pushed the brunette off him and rushed to the mirror.

Panic began setting in as he stared at the ink decorating his side. All he could mutter was "Why?"

"Oh, now Taichi's voicemail makes sense..," a voice interrupted.

Both boys whirled around, meeting the redhead's gaze. Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open, but her lips turned up slightly, almost like a smirk. Yamato's face reddened as he ducked his head to look at the newest addition to his body.

"Well, at least it's not a portrait of Gabumon," Taichi chuckled nervously.

Yamato groaned. He's never _ever _going to drink again.


End file.
